


Number 7 Langham's Row

by leobrat



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-01
Updated: 2010-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-05 15:22:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leobrat/pseuds/leobrat





	Number 7 Langham's Row

Mrs Jane Dursley was a generally well-liked person. She was an attractive woman of thirty-two, and a friendly and considerate neighbour who kept a neat and tidy home and yard. She volunteered at the local church and her daughter's school a few times a month, and was girlfriends with several of her daughter's friends' mums. And her daughter, ten-year-old Daisy, was always complimented on her lovely manners and sweet nature.

What generally puzzled people about Jane and Daisy Dursley was the father, a one Mr Dudley Dursley. He was overweight, not very intelligent, with an awful sense of humour and decidedly no social graces whatsoever. After the Dursleys would leave a neighbourhood picnic or one of the children's birthday parties, wives would quietly comment to their husbands that they just could not fathom how pretty Jane had ever ended up with Dudley, and the husbands couldn't help but agree. Dudley was somewhat well-off, running the drill firm that his father had started years before, but every other household on the street was just as comfortable, and certainly nobody was overstated in their wealth. Besides, nobody would ever accuse Jane of thinking with her pocketbook when it came to marriage. It simply was not in her nature.

There was the idea that Jane, who had no family to speak of, having been raised by an elderly aunt who passed away while she was at university, longed to be part of a close family unit, which Dudley undoubtedly was, as the only son of his parents and the apple of their eyes. But Jane was not so favoured by the elder Mr and Mrs Dursley. Mrs Dursley, especially, felt her son was too good for a skinny girl with nothing to call her own and Mr Dursley never let up his suspicions that she was after his son's meagre fortune. They had both been aghast at Jane's first choice of names when Daisy was born- she had long wanted to have a daughter called Lily. She relented when it seemed to cause far more of a problem than she thought it should have, and it was clear that when the baby was born, all five-and-a-half pounds of her was a Daisy. But at least both grandparents doted on Daisy, which was far more important to Jane.

Or at least…they had, when she was a baby. Daisy was a perfectly happy little girl, taking after her mother far more than her father. She had thick black hair that would not hold any sort of curl, a scattering of freckles across her small nose and wide, clear blue eyes. She enjoyed sports and reading books about horses, had many friends from school and her dance classes, and was quite imaginative. She and her mother were naturally close and while she was respectful to her grandparents and her father, she naturally pulled away from them as she got older. One Sunday before Halloween, Gran Dursley asked her what her costume would be that year, and Daisy said proudly, "A witch! But not with a black dress- I'm going to be a blue witch with a blue hat with bronze trim."

Granpa Dursley was quite disturbed by this idea, and scoffed, "A _witch_, you say? Why would you want to be something weird like that, a colourful witch, why not a…a…er…a librarian, yes why not something like that?" Dudley Dursley just pretended to be very interested in the contents of his teacup and ignored the whole conversation.

It was reasons like this that Daisy was closer to her mother than her father or grandparents.

Shortly before Daisy's eleventh birthday, on the seventeenth of April, Jane began to notice that things were…well, things seemed to be a bit off with her family. Specifically, the way that things seemed to be happening around her daughter. When Daisy arrived home from school one Wednesday afternoon, grumbling that she wished she were outdoors playing rather than indoors doing her homework, she opened her books to reveal that her maths, spelling and geography were all complete. Jane picked it up, and it was indeed in Daisy's loopy, childish scrawl. "I…I must have finished it already," Daisy said, seemingly puzzled. But Jane shrugged and gave her a quick snack and sent her on her way.

A week later, Daisy expressed a wish to have chicken kebabs for supper that night, and Jane told her that she had gotten a roast lamb from the market, but they could have kebabs another night that week. When she opened the refrigerator to put the lamb in the oven, she had to blink twice when she saw a plate of chicken kebabs, marinated, skewered and ready to be grilled. "I…I must have been mistaken. Maybe I just placed an order for the lamb, and we'll have it tomorrow."

And as Daisy's birthday got closer, Jane noticed that her husband seemed to be withdrawing from their family more than ever. On the Saturday morning of Daisy's birthday, Dudley said he would take his daughter to the park. Jane was happy to give them some quality time together, and it gave herself some time to get the house ready for Daisy's party. When they returned a few hours later, Dudley was remarkably quiet and stoic, but Daisy was chattering on excitedly. Apparently, the park had been filled up with owls, and as Daisy had never seen an owl in person before, this was quite an event. "There was even a white one with black spots, so pretty, Mum!" she cried, as she ran upstairs to change into her party dress.

"Are you all right, dear?" Jane asked her husband in concern, but he snapped that he was fine and went to pour himself a large whiskey. Daisy's party was rather quiet affair, nothing out of the ordinary for an eleven-year-old girl, but still she enjoyed herself and got a lovely amount of books and games and a new pair of roller-skates. When Daisy's friends and their parents were walking home, the wives commented to their husbands that Dudley Dursley was an even worse host than usual, drinking heavily and whispering in the corner with his parents, but ah well, it wasn't _that_ much worse than usual. Besides, Jane graciously made everyone comfortable enough in her home anyway.

The following morning, Jane poured Dudley's coffee as usual. He had slept fretfully the night before so she knew he would surely be tired and she had wanted him to help her with some yardwork that day, so she fixed him his favourite breakfast of six stripes of bacon, fried eggs melted with cheddar and great slabs of warm, buttery toast and walked down to the edge of their front drive to retrieve the Sunday paper for him to read while he breakfasted. She bent to pick up the print and when she stood, her eyes went wide when she saw a white owl with black spots (quite pretty) sitting on her mailbox, and it appeared to be waiting for her.

The bird wasn't the least bit skittish about being close to a human and after a moment, Jane noticed that it had a yellowing envelope tied to its leg. She wondered if this were some sort of specially arranged birthday treat for Daisy, though off-handedly she couldn't think of any friend with this kind of creativity. It certainly hadn't come from any of the Dursleys. The owl patiently and pointedly stuck its leg towards Jane, in an indication that she was meant to take the envelope and after deciding that she didn't expect the bird to bite or peck at her, she quickly untied the paper and the bird promptly flew away.

She walked back in the house and handed the newspaper to Dudley, who may or may not have grunted a thank you, still staring at the little envelope in her hand. Turning it over, she saw that it had been addressed- very _specifically_ addressed, in swirling calligraphy.

_Miss D Dursley  
The Purple Bedroom  
Number 7 Langham's Row  
Little Whinging   
Surrey_

"Dudley dear?"

"Hmmm?"

"Have you planned something extra for Daisy's birthday?"

Dudley looked up from the paper, a sticky yellow egg clinging to the outer corner of his lip. "What do you mean, Jane?"

Jane held up the envelope showing the address of their daughter's bedroom, and quickly jumped out of the way to avoid the stream of chewed up food that Dudley sprayed out of his mouth. "Dudley! What on earth, do you know who this letter came from?"

Dudley was sputtering, wiping egg from his face, which had turned white as a sheet. "Wh-where that letter…No, no, Jane, where did it come from? Never mind! Throw it out! Burn it! Quickly!" He reached for the letter but Jane held it away from him and he seemed far too flustered to rise from his seat and come around the table for it. A copious amount of sweat had broken out on his forehead and his wheat-coloured hair was matted against his face. He looked rather like he had taken on a severe fever in the last thirty seconds and Jane laid the envelope on the counter (out of his reach) and crossed the room to mop off his forehead and feel for a temperature. No fever, he was broken out in cold sweats.

"Dudley, what on earth is wrong with you?"

"Is Daddy okay?" The Dursleys looked up at their daughter who had sleepily stumbled into the room, still in her pajamas.

"Yes honey, Daddy's fine," Jane said, forcing lightness into her voice though she hadn't the foggiest idea what had her husband so riled.

"Jane, _throw that letter away_," Dudley said, in a far more serious tone than she had ever heard. "We don't know who it's from- it has our daughter's bedroom on it! What if some weirdo is watching the house?"

Jane hadn't thought of it from that angle and her heart raced in alarm that her daughter could be the object of a stalking or some other nefarious plan. "All the more reason to read what it says," she said, determinedly reaching for the envelope, tearing the top open.

"_HOGWART'S SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

Headmistress: Minerva McGonagall  
(Order of Merlin, First Class)

Dear Miss Dursley,

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours Sincerely,

Filius Flitwick  
Deputy Headmaster"

"Filius Flitwick?" Daisy echoed and Jane came back to herself, her mind spinning with strange names and owls and…witchcraft and wizardry? She allowed Daisy to take the letter from her hands and glanced at her husband who looked rather lost in a trance as she shuffled through the rest of the papers folded into the envelope. Under the letter had indeed been a list of some sort of school equipment and uniform requirements (dragon-hide gloves?) and underneath _that_ was another letter.

"There's more, dear," Jane said, and Daisy's head snapped up, in rapt attention. Jane glanced at Dudley but he still was not giving any indication that he was listening and so she carried on.

"_Dear Mr and Mrs Dursley,_

On behalf of the Muggle Parent Organization, I would like to welcome you and your child to the Hogwart's family. If you are unaware of what the word 'muggle' means, please know that it is a respectful term that wizards use in naming non-magical people. We at the MPO understand that this is a time that may be confusing for you and/or your child and we would like to reach out to your family to ease the transition.

A representative from the MPO will be at your house at eleven-thirty on the eighteenth of April to speak with you and your child on travelling to Hogwart's, curriculum, necessities for the school year and any other questions regarding the wizarding world you may have.

Yours Sincerely,

Dean Thomas  
President and Founder of the Muggle Parent Organization for Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry"

As it was already ten o'clock in the morning, Jane sent Daisy upstairs to tidy her bedroom and put on her best dress. They already had plans for her to attend Daymore's Secondary School the next fall, but it couldn't hurt to hear what Mr. Thomas's associate had to say. And Jane really didn't know what to make of it all, and preparing for company was something that was easy and familiar and good to take her mind off of that which was confusing her- which at the moment, included her husband. "Dudley, are you quite sure you're not ill?"

At this, Dudley finally snapped to and looked up at his wife, plainly furious. "Jane- have you lost your _mind?_ We can't let Daisy go to a place like that!"

"No Dudley, I _haven't_ lost my mind," Jane said wearily, hoping to avoid an argument. "But there is someone from a special school coming to see Daisy-"

"Special! Ha!"

"And the least we can do is hear what they have to say," Jane answered, opening the refrigerator to see what she could prepare when this person came by. "Now, you need to shower, shave and get dressed before eleven-thirty, so why don't you go upstairs? I think you've had quite enough." She swiped his plate out of the way as it only had half of one crust and crumbs on it at this point, but Dudley still moaned in protest. An hour and a half later, Dudley had put on a clean shirt but refused to put on a tie, and Jane was just setting out a plateful of tea sandwiches when the doorbell rang.

"Daisy, can you please get the door?"

"Yes Mum!"

"And please don't run!"

"Yes Mum!"

Jane glanced into the mirror over her fireplace, quickly giving herself one last lookover. She could hear Daisy leading a deep-voiced gentleman through their hallway, and glanced over at Dudley, who was staring out the window from his easy chair, slouched over and looking quite sloppy. "Dudley, will you please help me greet our guest?" she hissed.

"And these are my parents, Dudley and Jane Dursley. Mum, Dad, this is Mr. Thomas from Hogwart's."

"Oh! You were the one who sent the letter!" Jane said, enthusiastically shaking his proffered hand. She couldn't help a twinge of pride that the leader of this organization (no matter how obscure or that she had never heard of it before an hour and a half ago) deemed it necessary to make a housecall to their home. Mr. Thomas was a tall black man in his early thirties with a friendly smile and kind eyes. She hadn't really anticipated what a wizard might wear for clothing (she had something in her mind like Gandalf the Grey) but Mr. Thomas wore an ordinary navy blue suit, like any other businessman.

"Glad to see you got my owl," Mr. Thomas replied.

"An owl! A bloody owl sent that blasted thing today!" Jane sighed in exasperation that the first sign of life her husband was showing to a stranger was ranting and raving.

But Mr. Thomas genially chuckled and said, "Haha, yes, I understand that the first can be a shock." He paused for a moment. "Unfortunately, I don't always have time to visit every student before the school year, but I wanted to make sure I got out here. I was a good friend of your husband's cousin back in my own school years."

"Which cousin?" Jane glanced back at Dudley but it appeared he'd gone mute again.

"His cousin, Harry," Mr. Thomas replied politely, though there was a confused look in his eyes. "You do know his cousin, Harry Potter, right?"

Jane thought hard back to the guests at her wedding but she couldn't remember any relations by that name. She shook her head and led Mr. Thomas over to the sitting area. Doing her very best to ignore Dudley, Jane gestured for them all to sit, herself and Dudley on the parlor chairs and Mr. Thomas and Daisy on the sofa opposite. Daisy was staring up at Mr. Thomas in awe and it was no wonder- he was rather a handsome man, and Jane hoped that Daisy wouldn't be having a silly crush on a teacher. "Do you teach at the school?" Daisy asked, her wide eyes round.

Mr. Thomas laughed, "No, dear, I don't. Thank you, Mrs Dursley," he said, accepting the cup of tea she handed to him. "Well, why don't I tell you all a little about what I do?" And he went on, quickly but thoroughly explaining how, when he was eleven years old, he received a letter exactly like the one Daisy had received that morning, and neither he nor his mother could believe it at first, but all too soon, the wizard world became real to him, and now he could hardly believed he'd lived any other way. Each year when he returned to Diagon Alley (a sort of wizard's shopping row hidden in London, Jane learned), he found himself stopping and helping many of the new Muggle-born wizards and witches along their ways, and since he'd graduated, the school offered him a formal position to keep doing so. Jane and Daisy were both quiet, taking in this world of magic that had apparently been going on under their noses the whole time, and the strange things that always seemed to happen around Daisy oddly began to make sense. Mr. Thomas, or Dean, as he insisted that Jane call him, politely addressed each of her own questions and they both made it a point to ignore her husband who only stared dumbly into his own teacup, slowly turning the shade of a ripe tomato.

There was quite a bit to learn; how this owl postal service worked, wizard means of travel and communication (the floo network- she would have to see about getting her fireplace equipped), and the all-important Statute of Secrecy. The wizarding world operated under strict disguises. The non-magical world was not to be disturbed, unless they chose to be.

"And what's to stop us from blabbing to a magazine as soon as you leave this house? I'm sure there's some gossip rag that would pay a pretty penny for a story like this?" Dudley burst out. Jane had honestly never seen him like this.

But Dean just smiled his polite, professional smile once again. "If you are unable to cooperate, Mr Dursley, I'm afraid I will have to…modify your memory." Dean's smile turned just a shade darker- it was almost imperceptible. "But I think we both know that if you haven't said anything up 'til now, you're likely not going to going forward."

Out of the corner of her eye, Jane could see her husband ready to burst at that, but she laid a hand over his to steady him. "What if we won't send her? What if we decide to keep her here?" Dudley said with barely controlled rage.

"Daddy!" Daisy cried, obviously already attached to the idea of Hogwart's. And she'd heard quite a bit about her cousin Harry Potter. She was very curious to meet him, to say the least.

"Darling, maybe it's something we need to discuss as a family," Jane said quietly to her daughter. She squeezed her husband's hand.

"Yes, that's perfectly fine to talk it over," Dean said, rising from the couch. "Well, I don't want to take up too much of your time. I hope to hear back from you soon, Daisy."

"You will," she grinned up at him.

"Mrs Dursley, I hold a group outing the first weekend in August at Diagon Alley to help Muggle-born first years get settled with all their school supplies. If you'd like to sign up, just-"

"Just send an owl, right," Jane said, feeling as though she was getting the hang of it.

Dean laughed. He reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a normal looking business card. "Or you can just ring me. That's my London office telephone right there."

Jane gratefully accepted the card, happy to know that she wasn't already totally lost in the world of being a witch's mother.

After showing Dean out, Daisy started right in on her father, begging and pleading to allow her to attend Hogwart's, but Jane gently sent her up to her room. She needed to talk to her husband, and she needed to speak to him privately. Once they were alone, she turned to him sharply and said, "Dudley, what _has_ gotten into you? I have never seen you behave in such a way to a guest, and what is this about your cousin? Why have I never heard of him before? Why are you so opposed to the idea of this school, which apparently, is so clearly suited for Daisy?"

Dudley was quiet and still for a long time, and Jane wondered if he'd heard a word she said. "I'm just," he said, and there was an odd catch like the beginning of a cry in his throat. Jane had never heard that before. "I'm afraid to lose her."


End file.
